


like it's the only thing i'll ever do

by ruthvsreality



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Discussions of promiscuity, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22638274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthvsreality/pseuds/ruthvsreality
Summary: “You were a whore,” Jon observes with an amused smile.“The preferred term isslut,” Tommy corrects.
Relationships: Jon Favreau/Tommy Vietor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	like it's the only thing i'll ever do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fizzy_smile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzy_smile/gifts).

> unbetaed, so pls be nice. fourth wall, etc.

The party had turned into an impromptu Obama Alumnae reunion - Jon can count on one hand the people there that he doesn’t know. Caleb had always been a charismatic guy, but even after moving to Silicon Valley it’s a testament to his ability to keep friends that so many people are here that used to spend their nights at the bars in Washington D.C., complaining about John Boehner and stressing out over the State of the Union. 

Jon has his fair share of friends, but he can’t help noticing that Tommy knows  _ everyone  _ here. From Dan’s old secretaries to the liasons at the State Department, everyone greets him warmly - not just a firm handshake, but a hug and even a kiss sometimes. They’ve made their way around the room, greeting people and catching up. Now, though, they’re just sitting in the corner of the massive event space Caleb rented, watching Lovett entertain a good chunk of the crowd. 

“Everyone loves you,” Jon comments.   
  
“Well, I had a lot of friends in Washington.”   
  
Jon narrows his eyes. “You seemed to be really friendly with all of them.” He’s just teasing, but there’s something there.  
  
“Well…” Tommy tilts his head from side to side. “I… I may have slept with one or two of them.”   
  
Tommy’s exploits in Washington D.C. are pretty well known. He’s never been all that shy about it; Jon has heard plenty of stories.   
  
“You were a whore,” Jon observes with an amused smile.   
  
“The preferred term is _slut,” _Tommy corrects. He raises his glass to his lips. On the dance floor, the band has struck up a cheerful, swinging tune. The lights glint off of the sequins on someone’s dress.   
  
“Is it the preferred term?”   
  
“For me, yeah.” Tommy’s cheeks are a little pink, but he’s still meeting Jon’s eye. 

Jon knows this, of course. He’s definitely used the term in other contexts, ones that get his blood running even at the memory. But this is new. There’s never been an edge of nostalgia in the word before.

Jon thinks for a moment. He reaches over and squeezes Tommy’s knee, just to have something to do.    
  
“Say it, Jon,” Tommy says. “Go on.” He knows Jon too well.    
  
“Tom, there are a little under eighty people in this room. About 40 women, about 35 men. How many of them have you slept with?”    
  
Tommy leans back, tilting his head up for a moment to think. Jon watches the long line of his neck, the way his muscles shift as he moves.    
  
“To be honest, babe?” Tommy says a little sheepishly, “it would be easier to tell you how many of them I  _ haven’t  _ slept with.”    
  
Jon grins, an easy, giggly feeling washing over him. “Definitely a slut,” he says.    
  
“Guilty as charged,” Tommy replies with a smile. He doesn’t seem ashamed of it at all, which he shouldn’t be. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”    
  
“Of course not,” Jon dismisses. “I will say, though… you never tried to sleep with me, back in Washington.”    
  
Tommy raises his eyebrows. “Jon, you didn’t know you liked men yet. I was making myself busy while I was waiting for you.”    
  
Jon rolls his eyes. “You weren’t  _ waiting  _ for me.” 

“Yeah, I was.”    
  
Jon meets Tommy’s eyes. There’s so much sincerity there that Jon has no choice but to believe him.    
  
Well, Jon kind of knew that already. Didn’t he?    
  
“Was it fun?” Jon asks. “Being a slut?”    
  
“You really like calling me that.”    
  
“‘Course I do,” Jon concedes. “Though usually I’m calling you that under different circumstances.”  
  
Even now, Jon can look at Tommy’s nice white button down and imagine the muscles tense and flexing underneath. He can see the curve of Tommy’s mouth and imagine it open in a gasp, and then slack with pleasure.    


“It was definitely fun,” Tommy admits. “But you’re like… you’re like the ocean. It’s depth, not just vastness.”    
  
“That’s a good line.”    
  
“I’ll be sure to put it in our vows.”    
  
Jon decides not to touch that for right now. Tommy’s been making little comments like that more and more, but neither of them have discussed anything explicitly. Jon doesn’t mind waiting. After all, didn’t Tommy wait for him?    
  
“I’m glad you got to settle down,” Jon says.    
  
“Well, I’m like a plant. You feed me, you water me… I grow roots eventually.”    
  
Jon likes that image. “You’re a sunflower.”    
  
“I thought I was a slut?” Tommy teases.    
  
“You’re  _ my  _ slut,” Jon replies.    
  
That earns him a real, proper blush, visible even in the low light of the party.    
  
“Damn right I am,” Tommy agrees.    


**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Adore You" by Harry Styles. Many thanks to fizzy for inspiring this.


End file.
